Works of Thomas Hardy discussion
The Mayor of Casterbridge
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The Mayor of Casterbridge: 5th thread: Chapter 37-45
Bridget wrote: "Whatever the reason, I'm happy to have some explanations for Lucetta's fit that don't involve "female hysteria". I get so tired of that trope, I would like to think Hardy meant something else entirely."
Absolutely!
"I really liked the softness of the way Hardy tells us of Lucetta's passing - the servant removing the covering from the door knocker. Its a much more poetic way of expressing her passing."
This detail gave me a start when I read it in the text, as I hadn't noticed it when I read it before. But this time my mind was full of Charles Dickens. (When it is not, might be a fair question! But I do try not to compare unless it's directly relevant.)
Here I had been a little irritated at Thomas Hardy not being clear about the symptoms of Lucetta's epilepsy. Charles Dickens invariably was accurate and detailed when portraying newly diagnosed conditions - or even sometimes ones which did not yet have a name and were colloquially called after his character (e.g, "Pickwickian syndrome", also now known as Obesity Hypoventilation Syndrome (OHS)).
In Nicholas Nickleby, some may remember that when the "exceptionally common" but socially pretentious Mrs Kenwigs has yet another child, for the period of her final confinement her husband goes out to buy a fine white handkerchief to muffle the doorknocker, as was the custom in London townhouses.
Now here's the interesting bit. When she had given birth, Mr Kenwigs removed the muffler, as an established signal that the more genteel neighbouring ladies of the district (not the men) were welcome to visit the mother who was still in bed, and coo over her newly born child. There were set periods for all these stages.
But how ghastly if it could also be for another reason - the tragic circumstance of the mother and/or child's death! 🥹All I can think is that it was left to local gossip to reach everyone's ears first.
Absolutely!
"I really liked the softness of the way Hardy tells us of Lucetta's passing - the servant removing the covering from the door knocker. Its a much more poetic way of expressing her passing."
This detail gave me a start when I read it in the text, as I hadn't noticed it when I read it before. But this time my mind was full of Charles Dickens. (When it is not, might be a fair question! But I do try not to compare unless it's directly relevant.)
Here I had been a little irritated at Thomas Hardy not being clear about the symptoms of Lucetta's epilepsy. Charles Dickens invariably was accurate and detailed when portraying newly diagnosed conditions - or even sometimes ones which did not yet have a name and were colloquially called after his character (e.g, "Pickwickian syndrome", also now known as Obesity Hypoventilation Syndrome (OHS)).
In Nicholas Nickleby, some may remember that when the "exceptionally common" but socially pretentious Mrs Kenwigs has yet another child, for the period of her final confinement her husband goes out to buy a fine white handkerchief to muffle the doorknocker, as was the custom in London townhouses.
Now here's the interesting bit. When she had given birth, Mr Kenwigs removed the muffler, as an established signal that the more genteel neighbouring ladies of the district (not the men) were welcome to visit the mother who was still in bed, and coo over her newly born child. There were set periods for all these stages.
But how ghastly if it could also be for another reason - the tragic circumstance of the mother and/or child's death! 🥹All I can think is that it was left to local gossip to reach everyone's ears first.

Henchard is having one of his see-saw emotional moments, overcome with contrition for his previous actions. Is this the final one, where he finally overcomes his anger and jealousy once and for all? Lucetta's passing has undoubtedly had a strong impact on him and will affect his future behavior. I'm curious to see if Farfrae will now become the angry, jealous one, based on what his wife has told him on her deathbed. Henchard could now be, through no fault of his own, inextricably linked to the circumstances of Lucetta's death in Farfrae's mind.
It is nice to see Henchard finally recognizing Elizabeth-Jane's worth, but it seems (to me) to fall a little more on the self-serving side. Henchard has hit rock-bottom--he has lost even the semblance of goodwill with anyone respectable. Maybe I'm being petty, but I just remember how harshly he treated her when he was at his zenith. Now that he has completely ruined himself, she is the only one still offering him any emotional solace, so of course he gravitates to her. He now likes the look of her face because "there had been affection in it, and above all things what he desired now was affection from anything that was good and pure." To me, this sounds like it is not HER he is attracted to, but what she can give HIM. Previously, having to pretend that she was his own child filled him with distaste; now, he has "a faint dream that he might get to like her as his own,--if she would only continue to love him" (220). Even now, having known her and seen her in action all this time, he thinks MAYBE he could start to care for her--but only if she continues to support his emotional needs. I would have been a lot more impressed with his "redemption" if he had had a moment of clarity about her true character and felt shame for his previous behavior toward her, but I'm not seeing it. He should be filled with gratitude that she will still have anything to do with him, but he's still acting as if he is doing her a favor by accepting her as his daughter. He's not quite there on that redemption journey!
As far as the sea captain, my mind immediately goes to Elizabeth-Jane's true father, the fisherman. Could there be a connection there? I know he is dead, but maybe a relative?
Claudia wrote: "This was a very sad chapter indeed! I agree with you Bridget on how poignantly Lucetta's death was alluded to. The fact that we are told that only Farfrae knew the extent of what Lucetta had told h..."
Claudia, I really enjoy all your connections to Les Miserables. It has been on my TBR list for a long time, and now I'm moving it up to the top!!
Because Henchard's personality swings back and forth so much, I keep thinking of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Other Tales of Terror. Dr. Jekyll is more tortured than Henchard, but Henchard's personality is hard to fix.
Yesterday Jean was wondering about forms of epilepsy, and sometimes I wonder whether Henchard has some form of mania/depression.
I think back to how Henchard met Lucetta. He tells us in Chapter 12, he was passing through Jersey on business "when stopping there I fell quite ill, and in my illness, I sank into one of those gloomy fits I sometimes suffer from". I'm no psychological expert, but couldn't it be that Henchard suffers from highs of mania - and lows of depression?
Claudia, I really enjoy all your connections to Les Miserables. It has been on my TBR list for a long time, and now I'm moving it up to the top!!
Because Henchard's personality swings back and forth so much, I keep thinking of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Other Tales of Terror. Dr. Jekyll is more tortured than Henchard, but Henchard's personality is hard to fix.
Yesterday Jean was wondering about forms of epilepsy, and sometimes I wonder whether Henchard has some form of mania/depression.
I think back to how Henchard met Lucetta. He tells us in Chapter 12, he was passing through Jersey on business "when stopping there I fell quite ill, and in my illness, I sank into one of those gloomy fits I sometimes suffer from". I'm no psychological expert, but couldn't it be that Henchard suffers from highs of mania - and lows of depression?
Locations
The point where Henchard tries to intercept Farfrae "where the Mellstock road branches off from the road from Weatherbury" is actually Cuckoo Corner. This is where Cuckoo Lane, leading to Bockhampton, branches off the A35 (the main road through Dorset. Dorset is the only county in England which has no motorways at all!)
"Weatherbury" you may remember is actually Puddletown, This is where the real-life shepherd lived whom Thomas Hardy based Gabriel Oak on. The farms of Bathsheba and Boldwood were set around Weatherbury, so most of Far From the Madding Crowd takes place in those few square miles.
In this ch 40, desperate to find Farfrae's gig to alert him to Lucetta's precarious health, Henchard:
"hastened down the town, ran along the eastern road over Durnover Moor, up the hill beyond, and thus onward in the moderate darkness of this spring night till he had reached a second and almost a third hill about three miles distant."
"Durnover" (as mentioned before) is Fordingon, to the north of Dorchester ("Casterbridge")'s town centre.
"In Yalbury Bottom, or Plain, at the foot of the hill, he listened. At first nothing, beyond his own heart-throbs, was to be heard but the slow wind making its moan among the masses of spruce and larch of Yalbury Wood which clothed the heights on either hand;"
This describes an area Thomas Hardy knew well. "Yalbury" is located within the hamlet of Lower Bockhampton, just 2 miles from Dorchester. It's near his birthplace and also features in Far From the Madding Crowd and some poems.
And another way in which the novel features (but does not mirror) the real Dorset is the railway. I intended to say that Thomas Hardy altered the date slightly when he described this a couple of chapters ago with the royal visit. The railway actually reached Dorchester in 1847, so Hardy backdated the visit to fit in with the time scheme.
The point where Henchard tries to intercept Farfrae "where the Mellstock road branches off from the road from Weatherbury" is actually Cuckoo Corner. This is where Cuckoo Lane, leading to Bockhampton, branches off the A35 (the main road through Dorset. Dorset is the only county in England which has no motorways at all!)
"Weatherbury" you may remember is actually Puddletown, This is where the real-life shepherd lived whom Thomas Hardy based Gabriel Oak on. The farms of Bathsheba and Boldwood were set around Weatherbury, so most of Far From the Madding Crowd takes place in those few square miles.
In this ch 40, desperate to find Farfrae's gig to alert him to Lucetta's precarious health, Henchard:
"hastened down the town, ran along the eastern road over Durnover Moor, up the hill beyond, and thus onward in the moderate darkness of this spring night till he had reached a second and almost a third hill about three miles distant."
"Durnover" (as mentioned before) is Fordingon, to the north of Dorchester ("Casterbridge")'s town centre.
"In Yalbury Bottom, or Plain, at the foot of the hill, he listened. At first nothing, beyond his own heart-throbs, was to be heard but the slow wind making its moan among the masses of spruce and larch of Yalbury Wood which clothed the heights on either hand;"
This describes an area Thomas Hardy knew well. "Yalbury" is located within the hamlet of Lower Bockhampton, just 2 miles from Dorchester. It's near his birthplace and also features in Far From the Madding Crowd and some poems.
And another way in which the novel features (but does not mirror) the real Dorset is the railway. I intended to say that Thomas Hardy altered the date slightly when he described this a couple of chapters ago with the royal visit. The railway actually reached Dorchester in 1847, so Hardy backdated the visit to fit in with the time scheme.

Indeed, Bridget! It is not just a whim on my part. I know at least of one British scholar who has also done research into it.
Unlike Victor Hugo, who could spice up the narrative with immense and yet brilliant explanatory digressions, Thomas Hardy's poetics tends towards a concise economy of description, always skillfully inserted into the narrative with an exceptional aesthetic concern, subtly involving the reader. Like Victor Hugo, also a poet, but in a different way, Hardy knows how to touch his readers and leave a lasting emotional impression.

The point where Henchard tries to intercept Farfrae "where the Mellstock road branches off from the road from Weatherbury" is actually Cuckoo Corner. This is where Cuckoo Lane, leading..."
Very interesting details on locations, Jean, also in relation to Far From the Madding Crowd! It seems that this part of Dorset is very hilly - as hilly as Cornwall?
The narrative around Henchard walking - if not almost running to exhaustion - in the night to reach Farfrae shows how much he is walking the extra mile towards him.
I agree with Bridget's suggestion concerning Henchard's mood swings and the quote from chapter 12. This may have been described nowadays as bipolar personality trouble (however each case is different, and there are treatments).
Bionic Jean wrote: "Locations
This describes an area Thomas Hardy knew well. "Yalbury" is located within the hamlet of Lower Bockhampton, just 2 miles from Dorchester. It's near his birthplace and also features in Far From the Madding Crowd and some poems...."
Thank you Jean for all this great information on locations. I did not know that Yalbury was Lower Bockhampton. Indeed, you are right in saying this is the neighborhood Hardy grew up in. It's like Henchard is running through the scenery of Hardy's childhood.
Thanks also for the Dickens connection with the door knocker covering. I love that!!
This describes an area Thomas Hardy knew well. "Yalbury" is located within the hamlet of Lower Bockhampton, just 2 miles from Dorchester. It's near his birthplace and also features in Far From the Madding Crowd and some poems...."
Thank you Jean for all this great information on locations. I did not know that Yalbury was Lower Bockhampton. Indeed, you are right in saying this is the neighborhood Hardy grew up in. It's like Henchard is running through the scenery of Hardy's childhood.
Thanks also for the Dickens connection with the door knocker covering. I love that!!
There were so many wonderful comments today! Thank you everyone for contributing so many ideas and connections. Like Pamela I am also getting wrapped up in this story and can hardly put the book down. So lets charge forward to Chapter 41!
CHAPTER 41 - Summary
Not long after Henchard learns of Lucetta’s death, Elizabeth arrives at his home. He says how kind it was to come and invites her to rest while he prepares some breakfast. Elizabeth lies down and falls asleep, and Henchard waits with the breakfast, contemplating a better future with his stepdaughter.
Henchard answers a knock at the door and is greeted by the stranger who stopped at Peter’s Finger in Mixen Lane. The stranger identifies himself as Richard Newson, and a chill goes through Henchard upon hearing this name.
Newson speaks of Susan’s innocence in the matter of her own sale; how she did not realize that the transaction between them was not binding. Newson explains how he hoped to give Susan a better life and how she had seemed happy once she had a second child to replace the first who died. Newson reveals that eventually Susan confides her story to a friend and soon after feels ashamed of what she’s done. Their marriage is never the same, as Susan is never happy again with Newsom.
A friend advises Newsom to head to sea and give Susan space. There is a storm at sea where many of Newsom's shipmates die and he allows Susan to believe he also died to free her from their relationship and allow her to return to Henchard. He says that he learned of Susan’s death, but wishes to find Elizabeth, his daughter.
Henchard replies that Elizabeth has also died! He says she is buried next to her mother and died more than a year previously. Newson exclaims that his journey to Casterbridge has therefore been in vain and departs.
Realizing that Newson may discover the truth in town, Henchard follows him to tell him the truth. But Newsom is already enter the carriage to leave Casterbridge. Henchard begins to rationalize why he should remain Elizabeth's father. She is Henchard’s only remaining companion and hope in life,
Henchard realizes that perhaps Newson’s grief at believing Elizabeth dead has also prevented him inquiring further. But he feels that Newson’s grief could be nothing next to his if Elizabeth were taken from him. He returns home and has breakfast with Elizabeth who is grateful for his kindness and attentiveness. Elizabeth asks if he is lonely and promises to come visit him frequently. After she departs, Henchard knows that she would come live with him if he asked, and yet he fears that Newson will still discover her and take her away from him.
Henchard thinks about his life. He may live on for many years, and he sees nothing in it to look forward to. He walks to the second bridge and follows the river to a place called Ten Hatches. He takes off his hat and coat and stands at the very edge of the river. But as he looks down, he sees a figure in the water, which is revealed to be himself. Henchard turns away, overwhelmed as if witnessing a miracle. He takes his hat and coat and leaves the river.
Henchard returns home to find Elizabeth waiting to see him again. He asks if she believes in miracles. He asks if she will come with him to the river. He asks her to look closely in the river and tell him what she sees. Elizabeth sees the Henchard’s effigy from the skimmington-ride. Henchard notes that the performance of the skimmington-ride killed Lucetta but saved his life.
Elizabeth comprehends the seriousness of Henchard’s situation and asks if she might come and live with him. He says he wishes she would but wonders how she can forgive him for his past treatment of her. Elizabeth says that it is forgotten and the two plan to live together. She overhears Henchard later say that someone must be looking out for even such an outcast as himself.
Not long after Henchard learns of Lucetta’s death, Elizabeth arrives at his home. He says how kind it was to come and invites her to rest while he prepares some breakfast. Elizabeth lies down and falls asleep, and Henchard waits with the breakfast, contemplating a better future with his stepdaughter.
Henchard answers a knock at the door and is greeted by the stranger who stopped at Peter’s Finger in Mixen Lane. The stranger identifies himself as Richard Newson, and a chill goes through Henchard upon hearing this name.
Newson speaks of Susan’s innocence in the matter of her own sale; how she did not realize that the transaction between them was not binding. Newson explains how he hoped to give Susan a better life and how she had seemed happy once she had a second child to replace the first who died. Newson reveals that eventually Susan confides her story to a friend and soon after feels ashamed of what she’s done. Their marriage is never the same, as Susan is never happy again with Newsom.
A friend advises Newsom to head to sea and give Susan space. There is a storm at sea where many of Newsom's shipmates die and he allows Susan to believe he also died to free her from their relationship and allow her to return to Henchard. He says that he learned of Susan’s death, but wishes to find Elizabeth, his daughter.
Henchard replies that Elizabeth has also died! He says she is buried next to her mother and died more than a year previously. Newson exclaims that his journey to Casterbridge has therefore been in vain and departs.
Realizing that Newson may discover the truth in town, Henchard follows him to tell him the truth. But Newsom is already enter the carriage to leave Casterbridge. Henchard begins to rationalize why he should remain Elizabeth's father. She is Henchard’s only remaining companion and hope in life,
Henchard realizes that perhaps Newson’s grief at believing Elizabeth dead has also prevented him inquiring further. But he feels that Newson’s grief could be nothing next to his if Elizabeth were taken from him. He returns home and has breakfast with Elizabeth who is grateful for his kindness and attentiveness. Elizabeth asks if he is lonely and promises to come visit him frequently. After she departs, Henchard knows that she would come live with him if he asked, and yet he fears that Newson will still discover her and take her away from him.
Henchard thinks about his life. He may live on for many years, and he sees nothing in it to look forward to. He walks to the second bridge and follows the river to a place called Ten Hatches. He takes off his hat and coat and stands at the very edge of the river. But as he looks down, he sees a figure in the water, which is revealed to be himself. Henchard turns away, overwhelmed as if witnessing a miracle. He takes his hat and coat and leaves the river.
Henchard returns home to find Elizabeth waiting to see him again. He asks if she believes in miracles. He asks if she will come with him to the river. He asks her to look closely in the river and tell him what she sees. Elizabeth sees the Henchard’s effigy from the skimmington-ride. Henchard notes that the performance of the skimmington-ride killed Lucetta but saved his life.
Elizabeth comprehends the seriousness of Henchard’s situation and asks if she might come and live with him. He says he wishes she would but wonders how she can forgive him for his past treatment of her. Elizabeth says that it is forgotten and the two plan to live together. She overhears Henchard later say that someone must be looking out for even such an outcast as himself.
A Little More . . .
This domestic interaction between Henchard and Elizabeth marks a change for both characters: Henchard is able to care for another and put Elizabeth’s needs first, and Elizabeth is willing to be taken care of, and to trust Henchard.
Richard Newson’s arrival is ironically timed: just at the moment when Henchard and Elizabeth were forming a closer bond, a “ghost” from the past appears to disrupt this.
Newson demonstrates his honorable nature in his explanation of his “death”: he let Susan believe him dead, so that she could return to Henchard, which was the thing that would bring her peace. Newson only hopes to reconnect with his biological daughter and pass on his wealth to her. The fact that Henchard knows there is financial stability for Elizabeth in her relationship with Newsom makes the lie he tells even worse (if that’s possible!)
Henchard’s lie to Newson is entirely selfish. Earlier in the novel, when Henchard believed Elizabeth to be his biological daughter and then discovered the truth, he demonstrated the importance in his mind of biological parentage. However, he can turn Elizabeth’s biological father away with the most painful lie: a story of her death.
After his initial reaction, which was to fearfully lie to Newson, Henchard does consider Newson’s connection to Elizabeth and his grief. But here he is just rationalizing his bad behavior. Henchard often changes his emotions suddenly and intensely, and he now sees Elizabeth as his only source of happiness and stability.
Fear of losing Elizabeth drives Henchard to nearly commit suicide. This occurs at the second bridge, a place that has already been symbolically linked with tragedy. What stops Henchard’s suicide attempt is the image of himself. More so than any natural forces, Henchard considers a message from himself to be a sign, “a miracle.” Henchard has always relied primarily on his own strength.
Henchard takes Elizabeth to witness his “miracle,” which is revealed to be the effigy of himself from the skimmington-ride. Although the image stops Henchard’s course, it is an ominous image, showing Henchard’s figure, broken, and cast out of Casterbridge into the river at the second bridge.
The seriousness of Henchard’s situation causes Elizabeth to want to spend time with him and help him, rather than to fearfully turn away. Elizabeth demonstrates her fortitude, and her power to move past Henchard’s treatment of her, in this moment.
This domestic interaction between Henchard and Elizabeth marks a change for both characters: Henchard is able to care for another and put Elizabeth’s needs first, and Elizabeth is willing to be taken care of, and to trust Henchard.
Richard Newson’s arrival is ironically timed: just at the moment when Henchard and Elizabeth were forming a closer bond, a “ghost” from the past appears to disrupt this.
Newson demonstrates his honorable nature in his explanation of his “death”: he let Susan believe him dead, so that she could return to Henchard, which was the thing that would bring her peace. Newson only hopes to reconnect with his biological daughter and pass on his wealth to her. The fact that Henchard knows there is financial stability for Elizabeth in her relationship with Newsom makes the lie he tells even worse (if that’s possible!)
Henchard’s lie to Newson is entirely selfish. Earlier in the novel, when Henchard believed Elizabeth to be his biological daughter and then discovered the truth, he demonstrated the importance in his mind of biological parentage. However, he can turn Elizabeth’s biological father away with the most painful lie: a story of her death.
After his initial reaction, which was to fearfully lie to Newson, Henchard does consider Newson’s connection to Elizabeth and his grief. But here he is just rationalizing his bad behavior. Henchard often changes his emotions suddenly and intensely, and he now sees Elizabeth as his only source of happiness and stability.
Fear of losing Elizabeth drives Henchard to nearly commit suicide. This occurs at the second bridge, a place that has already been symbolically linked with tragedy. What stops Henchard’s suicide attempt is the image of himself. More so than any natural forces, Henchard considers a message from himself to be a sign, “a miracle.” Henchard has always relied primarily on his own strength.
Henchard takes Elizabeth to witness his “miracle,” which is revealed to be the effigy of himself from the skimmington-ride. Although the image stops Henchard’s course, it is an ominous image, showing Henchard’s figure, broken, and cast out of Casterbridge into the river at the second bridge.
The seriousness of Henchard’s situation causes Elizabeth to want to spend time with him and help him, rather than to fearfully turn away. Elizabeth demonstrates her fortitude, and her power to move past Henchard’s treatment of her, in this moment.
When Henchard lied to Newsom's face about Elizabeth being dead, I exclaimed "No!" loud enough that my husband looked at me and asked if everything was okay. I couldn't help it; I was shocked that he did that! I shouldn't have been, because that behavior is consistent with all the waffling Henchard has done in this story. It's just such an awful thing to do!
Well, I'm very curious to hear what you all think about this turn of events!!
*Remember, we will have a FREE day on Sunday, and then a poem led by Connie on Monday. We will resume with Chapter 42 on Tuesday
Well, I'm very curious to hear what you all think about this turn of events!!
*Remember, we will have a FREE day on Sunday, and then a poem led by Connie on Monday. We will resume with Chapter 42 on Tuesday
Michael Henchard
I can totally understand your appalled reaction to this Bridget - the lie to Newson was such a shocking thing to do. It seems to destroy all the hope we have had for this man, whenever we have seen his moral nature coming through despite his wishes. I'm sure Thomas Hardy intended for us to have this violent attitude of disgust and antipathy towards Henchard. But ...
This time, because I knew it was coming and had always had this reaction before, I tried to look more at the psychology. As Claudia says, there are many Hardy scholars who analyse his poetic style and as we would expect, the complex character of Henchard is continually addressed. He is one of the great male protagonists of Victorian literature. So there's plenty to read, if you like, but I'll try to keep my thoughts here brief.
Psychologically then, we are told in this chapter that Henchard feels as if he has lost everything. Also, that both he and Elizabeth-Jane are lonely, and wish for a reconciliation.
(Elizabeth-Jane never wanted a separation of course, but was driven away by his coldness towards her. Now though, she has additionally lost Lucetta, the person she felt most close to and viewed as a friend, whilst grieving for her mother.)
Looking at the text we read that it was "the impulse of a moment." This is absolutely in keeping with his character! We have many examples. e.g. right from the start, he sold his wife. Then the tempestuous relationship with Farfrae, immediately making friends - then banishing him - twice - and hitting out at him (literally in the end! but not able to carry it through "no man ever loved another as I did thee at one time ... I cannot hurt thee ... I care nothing for what come of me"). Then after on the road, trying to warn him about Lucetta, he says " I am a wretched man but my heart is true to you still."
Henchard is like a child, driven by his impulses.
”the sudden prospect of her loss had caused him to speak mad lies like a child, in pure mockery of consequences”
So here we have the second part of his nature, superstition - bolstered by Thomas Hardy's idea of Fate. It is confirmed for Henchard by his later sight of the his effigy: himself floating in the water when he was considering suicide by drowning himself. We read “The sense of the supernatural was strong in this unhappy man”.
The third aspect is that he does not truly believe that his God will allow his lie to Newson to be believed. He constantly expects it to be revealed in the chapter. At the end he has a glimmer of hope that “such a reprobate as I … [is in] Somebody’s hand”.
We deplore what he did – but so does he. Henchard is a wretched man, and I feel he deserves our pity. We can only imagine what might be coming.
I can totally understand your appalled reaction to this Bridget - the lie to Newson was such a shocking thing to do. It seems to destroy all the hope we have had for this man, whenever we have seen his moral nature coming through despite his wishes. I'm sure Thomas Hardy intended for us to have this violent attitude of disgust and antipathy towards Henchard. But ...
This time, because I knew it was coming and had always had this reaction before, I tried to look more at the psychology. As Claudia says, there are many Hardy scholars who analyse his poetic style and as we would expect, the complex character of Henchard is continually addressed. He is one of the great male protagonists of Victorian literature. So there's plenty to read, if you like, but I'll try to keep my thoughts here brief.
Psychologically then, we are told in this chapter that Henchard feels as if he has lost everything. Also, that both he and Elizabeth-Jane are lonely, and wish for a reconciliation.
(Elizabeth-Jane never wanted a separation of course, but was driven away by his coldness towards her. Now though, she has additionally lost Lucetta, the person she felt most close to and viewed as a friend, whilst grieving for her mother.)
Looking at the text we read that it was "the impulse of a moment." This is absolutely in keeping with his character! We have many examples. e.g. right from the start, he sold his wife. Then the tempestuous relationship with Farfrae, immediately making friends - then banishing him - twice - and hitting out at him (literally in the end! but not able to carry it through "no man ever loved another as I did thee at one time ... I cannot hurt thee ... I care nothing for what come of me"). Then after on the road, trying to warn him about Lucetta, he says " I am a wretched man but my heart is true to you still."
Henchard is like a child, driven by his impulses.
”the sudden prospect of her loss had caused him to speak mad lies like a child, in pure mockery of consequences”
So here we have the second part of his nature, superstition - bolstered by Thomas Hardy's idea of Fate. It is confirmed for Henchard by his later sight of the his effigy: himself floating in the water when he was considering suicide by drowning himself. We read “The sense of the supernatural was strong in this unhappy man”.
The third aspect is that he does not truly believe that his God will allow his lie to Newson to be believed. He constantly expects it to be revealed in the chapter. At the end he has a glimmer of hope that “such a reprobate as I … [is in] Somebody’s hand”.
We deplore what he did – but so does he. Henchard is a wretched man, and I feel he deserves our pity. We can only imagine what might be coming.
Richard Newson
Hardy knew exactly what he was doing here and had planned this bit all out! Did you notice when we first met the stranger, who offered to finance the skimmington ride that he had a “sealskin cap”? Nobody in England would have one of those, so he clearly was a seafaring man from Canada, or similar.
Then a few chapters later we could perhaps make the link when a stranger asked for Henchard – Kathleen (or Cindy?) suggested this might be a relative or friend of Newson, and I think Hardy’s keen-eyed original serial readers may have thought that when they read about the sealskin cap. But what a huge reveal today!
I’m not sure he would be so self-effacing as to have let Susan believe he was dead though. What about Elizabeth-Jane? We had been led to believe that the two – father and daughter - were very close. This seems a rocky plot-point to me; a bit of a quick fix. There is also a slip. Henchard said that Susan could barely write her name, but she wrote a letter to him explaining about Elizabeth Jane’s parentage, so he knew that was not the case. She would be unlikely to learn to write in later life as a sailor’s wife, though that’s the only remaining possibility.
I’ve written enough! But just a couple of points ...
Hardy knew exactly what he was doing here and had planned this bit all out! Did you notice when we first met the stranger, who offered to finance the skimmington ride that he had a “sealskin cap”? Nobody in England would have one of those, so he clearly was a seafaring man from Canada, or similar.
Then a few chapters later we could perhaps make the link when a stranger asked for Henchard – Kathleen (or Cindy?) suggested this might be a relative or friend of Newson, and I think Hardy’s keen-eyed original serial readers may have thought that when they read about the sealskin cap. But what a huge reveal today!
I’m not sure he would be so self-effacing as to have let Susan believe he was dead though. What about Elizabeth-Jane? We had been led to believe that the two – father and daughter - were very close. This seems a rocky plot-point to me; a bit of a quick fix. There is also a slip. Henchard said that Susan could barely write her name, but she wrote a letter to him explaining about Elizabeth Jane’s parentage, so he knew that was not the case. She would be unlikely to learn to write in later life as a sailor’s wife, though that’s the only remaining possibility.
I’ve written enough! But just a couple of points ...
Locations:
The location of Henchard’s contemplated suicide is given as “Ten Man’s Hole”, further up from the two bridges we know about, and “Blackwater”. Here Hardy has given us the proper name. Ten Hatches Weir still survives, a little way upstream from Grey’s Bridge. Only 5 hatches remain complete, however.
Hills
Yes, Claudia, this part of Dorset is hilly. You can probably remember that from the start of Far From the Madding Crowd and what happens to Gabriel Oak. I’m looking at a gentle hill next to the panorama of sea right now as I type. (That’s why we cannot get a phone signal in the caravan!) But they are gentler slopes than in Cornwall; similar to Derbyshire’s gradients rather than Yorkshire or the Lake District.
Speaking technically. Dorset and Derbyshire have hills, Cornwall has tors, the Lake District has fells – and only the highest of these are classed as mountains. Most of Britain’s mountains are in Scotland, with a few in North Wales.
The location of Henchard’s contemplated suicide is given as “Ten Man’s Hole”, further up from the two bridges we know about, and “Blackwater”. Here Hardy has given us the proper name. Ten Hatches Weir still survives, a little way upstream from Grey’s Bridge. Only 5 hatches remain complete, however.
Hills
Yes, Claudia, this part of Dorset is hilly. You can probably remember that from the start of Far From the Madding Crowd and what happens to Gabriel Oak. I’m looking at a gentle hill next to the panorama of sea right now as I type. (That’s why we cannot get a phone signal in the caravan!) But they are gentler slopes than in Cornwall; similar to Derbyshire’s gradients rather than Yorkshire or the Lake District.
Speaking technically. Dorset and Derbyshire have hills, Cornwall has tors, the Lake District has fells – and only the highest of these are classed as mountains. Most of Britain’s mountains are in Scotland, with a few in North Wales.

Hardy knew exactly what he was doing here and had planned this bit all out! Did you notice when we first met the stranger, who offered to finance the skimmington ride that he had a ..."
Indeed, Jean, Peter noticed the sealskin cap in chapter 36, and I wrote in message 123: "Indeed, ahoy, easily walking on a board as Peter mentioned, and wearing a sealskin (poor seal) cap". Peter noticed that, among others, as a Canadian, and I, certainly because the iconic actress Brigitte Bardot, now over ninety and well, has been an activist on behalf of animals, and relatively successfully fought against the killing of baby seals with Franz Weber in Newfoundland in 1977 when she was over forty and interrupted her career. Moreover visiting the seals at the Oceanographic Institute in Kiel was a Sunday afternoon walk when I was a student! So that I spot a sealskin cap when there is one...

I believe that at that moment, Newsom appears to take the last lifeline Henchard has; he has realized that Elizabeth-Jane is all he has.
No, I can only too well understand Henchard striking out to save himself by holding on to Elizabeth-Jane. And I don't get why introducing Newsom at this point does other than further blacken the man. Is this all he has become in this story?

For most of the novel we have assumed Newson had drowned. As Claudia observed there was a man a few chapters back who used the word ‘Ahoy’ and wore a sealskin hat. Then, this part of the story thread was dropped from the next few chapters.
Finally this man appears at Henchard’s door. A ghost from the past. He is the man who ‘bought’ Susan at the fair and is the father of Elizabeth-Jane. Now, here he is, a living presence. Henchard denies that Elizabeth-Jane is still alive although she sleeps in the next room. Newson, believing his daughter is dead leaves Henchard. There is no anger on Newsom’s part, only resignation. When he leaves Henchard’s home Hardy writes that Newson’s ‘shadow passed the window.’ Then we read ‘He was gone.’
Later in the chapter, Henchard feeling guilty, pursues Newson but we read that ‘the vehicle disappeared with him.’ Henchard waits in the hope that Newson will return but Hardy tells us ‘no figure appeared.’ Appearances and disappearances begin to accumulate.
When Henchard returns to his home Hardy tells us that he was ‘half expecting [Elizabeth Jane] would have vanished.’ The heightened feelings of suspense and ghostly events occurs when Henchard takes Elizabeth Jane to the pool and asks her three times to look into the water to confirm that his image can be found in the water. Henchard had thought that he had seen himself in the pool, but it is only his double. Here is the irony, it was Henchard in the pool, but not Henchard in the pool of water. There is, in this setting, what Hardy called a ‘sense of the supernatural.’
What intrigues me most is that at the end of the chapter Hardy tells us that Henchard went home and cleans himself up. He is, symbolically transforming himself. Hardy tells us that now Henchard ‘was a man resuscitated. Ghosts, renewals, changes all swirl in this chapter.
Henchard is, at this point of the novel, both a human and a ghost of his former self. What will Hardy do next?

But it is also about mistaken, if not usurped identities, as Henchard's daughter is dead and resting somewhere else in a grave, while Elizabeth-Jane who believes to be Henchard's daughter is alive and well but, as Henchard told Mr Newson supposed to be dead and resting in Susan's grave.
We see, once more, how Henchard is watching someone go. This motive has been recurring throughout the whole novel, perhaps more often of late.
Newson mounted, his luggage was put in, and in a few minutes the vehicle disappeared with him.

It seems to me that Hardy doesn't find Henchard unlikeable. I think he relates to him in his suffering. I feel like this is the Hardy I know from the first book of his I read: Jude the Obscure, the Hardy that explores the suffering characters can go through when faced with overwhelming disappointment, the Hardy that shows how the forces of fate can work against someone.
I liked the way Hardy handled Henchard's lie, the way he said it before thinking at all. Of course it's an awful thing to do, but I can almost see myself doing something like that in the pain of the moment! He does make an attempt to undo it later. It's like so many of his misteps: a rash and unthinking mistake.
It makes me think that the difference between someone who would do this and who wouldn't, for example Henchard and Elizabeth-Jane, is that one doesn't trust fate, and the other does. Maybe this plays into the superstition that Jean was talking about.
Kathleen wrote: "It seems to me that Hardy doesn't find Henchard unlikeable. I think he relates to him in his suffering ..."
Yes, I agree, there's a lot of Thomas Hardy himself in both Michael Henchard and Jude. I feel desperately sorry for Henchard, (as you can probably tell from my analysis) who tortures himself with regrets.
Very early on someone speculated that we don't know his or Susan's back story, and I feel that a Freudian would have an interesting take on this. Perhaps Michael too had a mother like Jemima Hardy ...
However I do think it's well worth thinking about the mania and depression Bridget highlighted. He seems to be cyclothymic, and his mood swings might even be due to bipolar disorder, but it's not absolutely clear.
Yes, I agree, there's a lot of Thomas Hardy himself in both Michael Henchard and Jude. I feel desperately sorry for Henchard, (as you can probably tell from my analysis) who tortures himself with regrets.
Very early on someone speculated that we don't know his or Susan's back story, and I feel that a Freudian would have an interesting take on this. Perhaps Michael too had a mother like Jemima Hardy ...
However I do think it's well worth thinking about the mania and depression Bridget highlighted. He seems to be cyclothymic, and his mood swings might even be due to bipolar disorder, but it's not absolutely clear.

I agree, Bridget! And I'm trying to feel sorry for him, Jean, but I'm having trouble getting there. I get that he is wretched and desperate, and that he recognizes how terribly he is behaving, but even in his realization of his wrongness, he does nothing to change it. He is perfectly willing to sacrifice Elizabeth-Jane's future for his own selfish needs.
Henchard is the quintessential dog in the manger. He acts in the same manner with Lucetta--he doesn't really want her until someone else does, then he must have her, come hell or high water. He is the same with Elizabeth-Jane. He cast her aside, then when he is desperate, he is willing to try to have a relationship with her. When her real father shows up, suddenly Henchard can't live without her and will do anything to keep her, including telling his terrible lie.
I cannot predict where this story is going (my hunches have all been disproved at this point) but if Henchard does manage to regain his former status, I can easily see him once again discarding his stepdaughter when she is no longer necessary for his needs.
I feel kind of bad for not having more sympathy for Henchard's plight, but I just can't get over the fact that he is knowingly ruining someone else's life to benefit himself. I could understand it better if he was acting out of his love for her, but he's not. It's because he doesn't want to be alone.
I did love Hardy's mention of how profoundly music affected Henchard, to the point where it "transubstantiated" him. This is followed by a lyrical description of the water flowing through the forest:
The wanderer in this direction who should stand still for a few moments on a quiet night, might hear singular symphonies from these waters, as from a lampless orchestra, all playing in their sundry tones from near and far parts of the moor. At a hole in a rotten weir they executed a recitative; where a tributary brook fell over a stone breastwork they trilled cheerily; under an arch they performed a metallic cymballing; and at Durnover Hole they hissed. The spot at which their instrumentation rose loudest was a place called Ten Hatches, whence during high springs there proceeded a very fugue of sounds" (226-7).
Hardy lets the medium that has so much power over Henchard draw him to this particular spot. Henchard's reaction to music is linked to the religious act of being converted from one form to another by the use of the word "transubstantiation". It is this spot where the suicidal man experiences what he later believes to be a miracle and, as Peter pointed out, a type of transformation as he cleans himself up and takes on an aspect of respectability.
The spiritual significance of that location and event is also highlighted by the fact that Henchard asks Elizabeth-Jane to look into the water three times. The number three is prominent in the Bible in a variety of ways and further indicates the "awakening" Henchard experiences at this moment.

Cindy I too felt the spiritual significance in this chapter. Whenever I see the number three my antenna starts to quiver. There has also been a clear vein of religious references running through this novel. To that, we can add mythological references.
I am grateful for all the commentaries and insights of my fellow readers. And then, of course, we have our very own travel guide and on the spot photographer Jean .
Cindy wrote: "I did love Hardy's mention of how profoundly music affected Henchard, to the point where it "transubstantiated" him ..."
Yes - I love your comments on this Cindy, and Peter's too.
Today I listened to a busking fiddler in "Port-Bredy", and as I enjoyed her fast catchy folk tune renderings, I thought how timeless it all is here. The way she was dressed, in various cotton layers and scarves could have come straight out of a Thomas Hardy story 🙂 (Sorry Peter, but it seemed a bit invasive to take a pic! Maybe another time I could ask.) Earlier the "Wessex Military Band" were regaling everyone; a brass ensemble sounding similar to the Salvation Army.
I suspect perhaps Thomas Hardy, like me, might have preferred the solitary fiddler, but I don't know for sure!
Yes - I love your comments on this Cindy, and Peter's too.
Today I listened to a busking fiddler in "Port-Bredy", and as I enjoyed her fast catchy folk tune renderings, I thought how timeless it all is here. The way she was dressed, in various cotton layers and scarves could have come straight out of a Thomas Hardy story 🙂 (Sorry Peter, but it seemed a bit invasive to take a pic! Maybe another time I could ask.) Earlier the "Wessex Military Band" were regaling everyone; a brass ensemble sounding similar to the Salvation Army.
I suspect perhaps Thomas Hardy, like me, might have preferred the solitary fiddler, but I don't know for sure!
Pamela wrote: "You know it's interesting to read of the relationship between Farfrae and Henchard. In many ways it's like two feuding brothers who seem to be at each other all the time but who will band together ag..."
When Claudia brought up the concept of usurped identities, I remembered this insight of Pamela's from yesterday. I think the two comments are linked together. As we've discussed, there are layers and layers of doubling relationships in this novel. The introduction to my edition calls them "unusually elaborate psychological inversions".
Claudia rightly pointed out that Elizabeth-Jane is the usurper of Henchard's real daughter who died (who is also Elizabeth-Jane's sister).
Henchard is a usurper father to Elizabeth-Jane. And that applies with Newsom now alive because of the lie Henchard tells. And it applies when Newsom was "dead" because Henchard never reveals the contents of Susan's letter to Elizabeth-Jane.
Jean reminded us that we have wondered about the back story for Henchard. There is only one small detail - which is that he had a brother who died, and that Farfrae bears a striking resemblance to him. So, when Pamela says they are "like two feuding brothers", she's absolutely right. Farfrae is the usurper of that dead brother.
Lucetta starts out trying to usurp Susan's place after she dies; but ends up usurping Elizabeth-Jane's place in Farfrae's heart.
And of course, Farfrae completely and totally usurps Henchard's life: his wife, his business and his position in town.
I wish I could tell you what all this means, but I'm not really certain. Other than, I'm certain Hardy is doing this intentionally. I think all these dual relationships mirror the dual personality of Henchard himself. Perhaps this theme is indicating the complexity of life, that duality is not just in Henchard, but rather everywhere.
When Claudia brought up the concept of usurped identities, I remembered this insight of Pamela's from yesterday. I think the two comments are linked together. As we've discussed, there are layers and layers of doubling relationships in this novel. The introduction to my edition calls them "unusually elaborate psychological inversions".
Claudia rightly pointed out that Elizabeth-Jane is the usurper of Henchard's real daughter who died (who is also Elizabeth-Jane's sister).
Henchard is a usurper father to Elizabeth-Jane. And that applies with Newsom now alive because of the lie Henchard tells. And it applies when Newsom was "dead" because Henchard never reveals the contents of Susan's letter to Elizabeth-Jane.
Jean reminded us that we have wondered about the back story for Henchard. There is only one small detail - which is that he had a brother who died, and that Farfrae bears a striking resemblance to him. So, when Pamela says they are "like two feuding brothers", she's absolutely right. Farfrae is the usurper of that dead brother.
Lucetta starts out trying to usurp Susan's place after she dies; but ends up usurping Elizabeth-Jane's place in Farfrae's heart.
And of course, Farfrae completely and totally usurps Henchard's life: his wife, his business and his position in town.
I wish I could tell you what all this means, but I'm not really certain. Other than, I'm certain Hardy is doing this intentionally. I think all these dual relationships mirror the dual personality of Henchard himself. Perhaps this theme is indicating the complexity of life, that duality is not just in Henchard, but rather everywhere.

That is fascinating, Bridget. Every character is either replacing a vacated spot or wresting it away from the person who previously held it. I know we are nearing the end of the story, so I'm curious to see if any characters will be able to reclaim any of these usurped roles.
Did you notice that when Henchard is chasing down Farfrae to urge him to fly to Lucetta's side, he knows it is Farfrae because he recognizes the sound of the carriage--it used to be his! Farfrae is riding around town in Henchard's former carriage. It's a good thing for Henchard that he's much bigger than Farfrae or the younger man would probably have bought the clothes off his back! LOL


Thank you Bridget for having brilliantly dug up deeper the themes of identity and usurpation. I also wrote much earlier (under chapter 23 or 24) that Lucetta suddenly "usurped" Elizabeth-Jane's role on the very moment when Farfrae was about to court Elizabeth again. Moreover she turned up at Casterbridge under another identity or, more exactly, a nom de scène, Lucetta Templeman of Bath instead of Lucette Le Sueur of Jersey. This was not illegal because at that time people could change their name after having inherited an estate and took over their patronym. I did not find evidence in legal texts but I met such an example in a novel by Elizabeth Gaskell. Still, Lucetta created herself a fresh identity as if she were an actress.
We see this in several novels in the 19th century: Les Misérables (view spoiler) which has more than one thing in common with The Mayor of Casterbridge!
We also see much of those dualities and usurpations in The Count of Monte Cristo with Proteus-like Edmond Dantès. (view spoiler) . Thomas Hardy's novel has in common with it its page-turning quality, its many twists and turns, albeit in a more concentrated form.
(These themes are also a great literary device in Wilkie Collins' novels and in novels of sensations like in Mary Elizabeth Braddon's novels.)
In these three novels, dualities, hidden identities and usurpations ask perhaps the more philosophical question of our own quest for the right place, the person we want to be and our purpose in life.
Great catch on Henchard's deceased brother. I mentioned it back then but your development is very interesting on the "brotherly feud" with Farfrae, Bridget! This reminds us of Cain and Abel, which ended badly but also, later, of Yaakov and red haired Esav who were already fighting in their mother's womb.
There is one more aspect of crossed identities I mentioned under chapter 19. Elizabeth-Jane, Henchard's daughter, died. Her first name was given to Susan's and Newson's daughter, which is considered by nowadays psychologists as a heavy burden for the child who is subconsciously meant to be replacing his or her deceased sibling. I know of one such case, and it had been a burden for the boy who "replaced" his lost brother, bore his name, saw it written on a gravestone and wore his clothes in infancy. It is about blurred identities and confusion, and Elizabeth-Jane's balance and steadiness amidst all these troubles is to be commended!

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
The discussion for Chapter 42 will be on Tuesday, August 19.
Connie wrote: "The poem, "Before My Friend Arrived," has been posted:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
The discussion for Chapter 42 will be on T..."
Thank you, Connie! I will put a link to this poem in the first post of this thread as well.
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
The discussion for Chapter 42 will be on T..."
Thank you, Connie! I will put a link to this poem in the first post of this thread as well.
Bionic Jean wrote: "A link is also now in our list of poems."
Thank you Jean! I've been thinking a lot about what you wrote in Message 64. About looking at the psychology of Henchard's decisions. As the shock of his lie to Newsom has worn off, I find myself softening a little towards Henchard. I especially like what you said here: "We deplore what he did – but so does he.". That is so true, as we will see in Chapter 42.
I hope everyone has had a chance to read "Before My Friend Arrived" and the discussion led by Connie. She provided some wonderful background information on the poem, and the comments are excellent, I encourage everyone to chekc it out.
But for now, let's more on to the next chapter.
Thank you Jean! I've been thinking a lot about what you wrote in Message 64. About looking at the psychology of Henchard's decisions. As the shock of his lie to Newsom has worn off, I find myself softening a little towards Henchard. I especially like what you said here: "We deplore what he did – but so does he.". That is so true, as we will see in Chapter 42.
I hope everyone has had a chance to read "Before My Friend Arrived" and the discussion led by Connie. She provided some wonderful background information on the poem, and the comments are excellent, I encourage everyone to chekc it out.
But for now, let's more on to the next chapter.
CHAPTER 42 - Summary
Henchard lives in constant anxiety that Newson will return to Casterbridge. He grows increasingly dependent upon Elizabeth-Jane’s care and love. Farfrae’s initial instinct to seek revenge upon the leaders of the skimmington-ride is tempered by his realization that to make too much of Lucetta’s history will harm himself and Henchard, as well. The outcome of the event is therefore regarded as an unintended and unfortunate accident. Henchard accepts the small seed business purchased for him by Farfrae and the members of the council.
With time, Farfrae is able to put Lucetta’s life and death into perspective, realizing that with the revelation of her history, life with her could never have been the same. By the end of the year, Henchard’s seed business is doing very well and Elizabeth-Jane is taking long walks most days in the direction of Budmouth.
Henchard notices Elizabeth-Jane spending more money than she used to. Although her room is humble, it is filled with books, many of which are new purchases. She also buys an expensive muff, which he comments upon. Henchard wonders about this, but is distracted by another concern about Elizabeth-Jane when he observes Farfrae looking at her one day. He remembers that Farfrae once showed interest in Elizabeth-Jane in the past, but he hates the idea of a union between the two now, which would take Elizabeth-Jane away from him.
From that point onward, Henchard keeps a close eye on Elizabeth-Jane. By hiding in The Ring, he observes the two meet and stop to talk on the Budmouth road. He feels that Farfrae means to rob him of Elizabeth-Jane as Farfrae has already robbed him of so much.
In Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae’s conversation on the road, she confesses that she likes to walk that way in order to get a view of the sea, but she will not confess why this is so. She also thanks him for the new books, which are gifts he has given her.
Henchard vows to himself that he will do nothing to hinder Farfrae’s courtship of Elizabeth-Jane, despite his thoughts and wishes. But when he sees how close the two have become, and believes they must be engaged, he cannot help how he feels about the situation. If Elizabeth-Jane had been interested in any other man than Henchard’s great rival, he feels he could have been content to part with her constant company and attention.
Henchard lives in constant anxiety that Newson will return to Casterbridge. He grows increasingly dependent upon Elizabeth-Jane’s care and love. Farfrae’s initial instinct to seek revenge upon the leaders of the skimmington-ride is tempered by his realization that to make too much of Lucetta’s history will harm himself and Henchard, as well. The outcome of the event is therefore regarded as an unintended and unfortunate accident. Henchard accepts the small seed business purchased for him by Farfrae and the members of the council.
With time, Farfrae is able to put Lucetta’s life and death into perspective, realizing that with the revelation of her history, life with her could never have been the same. By the end of the year, Henchard’s seed business is doing very well and Elizabeth-Jane is taking long walks most days in the direction of Budmouth.
Henchard notices Elizabeth-Jane spending more money than she used to. Although her room is humble, it is filled with books, many of which are new purchases. She also buys an expensive muff, which he comments upon. Henchard wonders about this, but is distracted by another concern about Elizabeth-Jane when he observes Farfrae looking at her one day. He remembers that Farfrae once showed interest in Elizabeth-Jane in the past, but he hates the idea of a union between the two now, which would take Elizabeth-Jane away from him.
From that point onward, Henchard keeps a close eye on Elizabeth-Jane. By hiding in The Ring, he observes the two meet and stop to talk on the Budmouth road. He feels that Farfrae means to rob him of Elizabeth-Jane as Farfrae has already robbed him of so much.
In Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae’s conversation on the road, she confesses that she likes to walk that way in order to get a view of the sea, but she will not confess why this is so. She also thanks him for the new books, which are gifts he has given her.
Henchard vows to himself that he will do nothing to hinder Farfrae’s courtship of Elizabeth-Jane, despite his thoughts and wishes. But when he sees how close the two have become, and believes they must be engaged, he cannot help how he feels about the situation. If Elizabeth-Jane had been interested in any other man than Henchard’s great rival, he feels he could have been content to part with her constant company and attention.
A Little More . . .
Time passes and soothes over some of the wounds that have been made by the skimmington-ride and Henchard’s fall from prominence. Henchard accepts the generous charity of Farfrae and the council, for the sake of Elizabeth-Jane, which is a new motivation for him. He also accepts the care of Elizabeth-Jane. Farfrae’s reaction to the skimmington-ride is tempered by reflection and time. A delicate peace has been reached in Casterbridge.
Henchard is more attuned to the emotions and actions of other characters than he has been in the past. This new attentiveness is focused on Elizabeth-Jane because he is obsessed with keeping her in his life. He worries about the secrets she may be keeping, from spending more money to forming a connection with Farfrae
In his usual selfish way, Henchard views a union between Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae as a personal attack. He must hide in The Ring to observe the pair; the place associated with underhanded deeds.
Henchard demonstrates a hard-earned maturity in vowing not to interfere with Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae’s future together. Despite this decision, his feelings are still selfish. His dislike of Farfrae is renewed because he sees this as a new affront to his happiness and stealing of “something” that is his.
Over to you . . . . .
Time passes and soothes over some of the wounds that have been made by the skimmington-ride and Henchard’s fall from prominence. Henchard accepts the generous charity of Farfrae and the council, for the sake of Elizabeth-Jane, which is a new motivation for him. He also accepts the care of Elizabeth-Jane. Farfrae’s reaction to the skimmington-ride is tempered by reflection and time. A delicate peace has been reached in Casterbridge.
Henchard is more attuned to the emotions and actions of other characters than he has been in the past. This new attentiveness is focused on Elizabeth-Jane because he is obsessed with keeping her in his life. He worries about the secrets she may be keeping, from spending more money to forming a connection with Farfrae
In his usual selfish way, Henchard views a union between Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae as a personal attack. He must hide in The Ring to observe the pair; the place associated with underhanded deeds.
Henchard demonstrates a hard-earned maturity in vowing not to interfere with Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae’s future together. Despite this decision, his feelings are still selfish. His dislike of Farfrae is renewed because he sees this as a new affront to his happiness and stealing of “something” that is his.
Over to you . . . . .

The road to Budmouth and its hills is an important and recurring location in this novel. Lucetta walked there to meet Farfrae when they were newlyweds. Elizabeth joined her, and they were attacked by a stray bull. Henchard saved them and walked with Lucetta, learning that she had just married (Chapter 29). Here, Elizabeth-Jane seems attracted to the seascape. She admits to Farfrae that she needs to see the sea daily for a secret reason. These long walks there are unsettling for Henchard as he noticed that Elizabeth-Jane is not quite the same after such walks.
"She took long walks into the country two or three times a week, mostly in the direction of Budmouth. Sometimes it occurred to him that when she sat with him in the evening after those invigorating walks she was civil rather than affectionate; and he was troubled;"
The fur muff is an added mystery. Elizabeth-Jane thanks Farfrae for the books (expensive back then) but not for the muff. It was an usual accessory in those times, "not small" as mentioned in chapter 29 when Elizabeth-Jane hurried to pick up Lucetta's muff the latter had lost in the bull incident. The present muff, obviously expensive, reminds me of a sealskin cap and a furred coat ("a certain clumsy richness")we saw in chapter 36, but it is perhaps incidental.
Then, Henchard spies on Elizabeth-Jane as she meets Farfrae in the Ring. The Ring is certainly a strategic location in Casterbridge where the main protagonists meet, settle deals and agreements, and engage in courtship. Once again, we see one of the protagonists watching and eavesdropping.
Well this is a gentler chapter, but I feel it's ominous too.
Henchard is becoming so reliant on Elizabeth-Jane's love and approval, and she is edging more towards being secretive and independent. Their roles appear to be completely reversed. So both are behaving out of character; tiptoeing round each other, and that surely can't last. 🤔
Thanks Bridget for the reminder about the tiny snippet we know of Henchard's backstory - that he lost a much-loved brother who looked like Farfrae, and thus like David in the Bible. That does feel important in assessing his psychology.
Completely off-topic ... (I can easily edit it out if you like 🙂)
We are watching an old 1980s TV cop series called "Bergerac" with John Nettles (who went on to do Midsomer Murders.) It's set in Jersey, and the island's prosperous culture, both dual-language and wealthy tax-exile English inhabitants, the various organisational systems, and its locations and scenery are very prominent in every episode. What a surprise I had yesterday evening, when the Scottish actor who played Farfrae in the first BBC adaptation of The Mayor of Casterbridge (the one from 1978, brilliantly adapted by Dennis Potter) was cast in that episode in the role of a drugs baron! 😂 The actor is called Jack Galloway, but I've never seen him in anything else! 😆
Henchard is becoming so reliant on Elizabeth-Jane's love and approval, and she is edging more towards being secretive and independent. Their roles appear to be completely reversed. So both are behaving out of character; tiptoeing round each other, and that surely can't last. 🤔
Thanks Bridget for the reminder about the tiny snippet we know of Henchard's backstory - that he lost a much-loved brother who looked like Farfrae, and thus like David in the Bible. That does feel important in assessing his psychology.
Completely off-topic ... (I can easily edit it out if you like 🙂)
We are watching an old 1980s TV cop series called "Bergerac" with John Nettles (who went on to do Midsomer Murders.) It's set in Jersey, and the island's prosperous culture, both dual-language and wealthy tax-exile English inhabitants, the various organisational systems, and its locations and scenery are very prominent in every episode. What a surprise I had yesterday evening, when the Scottish actor who played Farfrae in the first BBC adaptation of The Mayor of Casterbridge (the one from 1978, brilliantly adapted by Dennis Potter) was cast in that episode in the role of a drugs baron! 😂 The actor is called Jack Galloway, but I've never seen him in anything else! 😆
Perils of Serial Publication?
I mentioned the slip in the previous chapter, about Susan being "barely able to write her own name".
Now in ch 42 we have a couple more examples of something which does not seem consistent. In the second long paragraph, we read "Lucetta had confessed everything to him [Farfrae] before her death". This seems to contradict ch 40, in which what Lucetta revealed to Farfrae "cannot be told". If the facts could be told to him then, why not now?
Another instance is in the following paragraph:
"For Elizabeth’s sake the former had fettered his pride sufficiently to accept the small seed and root business which some of the Town Council, headed by Farfrae, had purchased to afford him a new opening."
But we know from ch 34 that Farfrae had abandoned the idea of setting Henchard up in business.
So much happens so quickly in this novel, that even in a slow careful read like ours it's easy to misremember (e.g. I had to think hard before I remembered that Elizabeth-Jane still does not know the truth of her parentage). So these could be examples of the perils of serial writing, or a second author.
Perhaps this calmer chapter is one of those largely written by his wife, as we discussed before, as part of her "editing". 🤔
I mentioned the slip in the previous chapter, about Susan being "barely able to write her own name".
Now in ch 42 we have a couple more examples of something which does not seem consistent. In the second long paragraph, we read "Lucetta had confessed everything to him [Farfrae] before her death". This seems to contradict ch 40, in which what Lucetta revealed to Farfrae "cannot be told". If the facts could be told to him then, why not now?
Another instance is in the following paragraph:
"For Elizabeth’s sake the former had fettered his pride sufficiently to accept the small seed and root business which some of the Town Council, headed by Farfrae, had purchased to afford him a new opening."
But we know from ch 34 that Farfrae had abandoned the idea of setting Henchard up in business.
So much happens so quickly in this novel, that even in a slow careful read like ours it's easy to misremember (e.g. I had to think hard before I remembered that Elizabeth-Jane still does not know the truth of her parentage). So these could be examples of the perils of serial writing, or a second author.
Perhaps this calmer chapter is one of those largely written by his wife, as we discussed before, as part of her "editing". 🤔

I’m interested in Jean’s comments on who could be the lead author of this chapter. The slips are there, and definitely Thomas Hardy has been able to keep a tight rein on this very complex plot very well to this point of time. I don’t know anything about his wife to make any definite comment. Did she ever publish any material solely under her hand? It would be helpful if many of her letters are available for study as well. Even if the letters do not directly address her ‘support’ of her husband, the manner, style and format could give a clue. That said, I am truly clueless about where I stand on the issue, but I do find the possibility intriguing.
Hi Peter, Emma certainly did write, and Bridget may well add more about how her ambitions were thwarted and rather subsumed under Tom's own. So I'll just remind us all of what I wrote about Emma's contributions to this particular novel. This is part of my post LINK HERE.
The original manuscript of The Mayor of Casterbridge was donated by Thomas Hardy himself to the Dorset County Museum, in Dorchester in 1911. But oddly, it is only 374 pages long!
108 pages are missing and 5 are fragmentary. The most plausible theory seems to be that Thomas Hardy excised the missing portions of the novel because they had been written by his wife, Emma. (see Simon Gatrell, although other scholars agree.) Emma had regularly produced the fair copies of parts of his previous novels, and was a talented writer herself, who was never really allowed to shine.
Unlike some other major authors who wrote Victorian serial fiction, Thomas Hardy made notes on the actual text itself, rather than having a notebook for planning. If he had about 10 lines he had changed, then he would produce a fair copy, and throw the previous one away. This means that many alterations are visible to show his thought processes (although he sometimes rubbed or scribbled them out!) but equally a lot have been lost. He did have a notebook, but used this to note items of local interest, not his own writing.
Emma and Tom had very similar handwriting, so in other cases some Hardy scholars have tried to identify parts of his stories which might also have been written by Emma. The manuscript in the museum is interesting, as it also shows quite a few cancelled plot-lines, due to his method just described.
The Norton edition has section which analyse the various editions in detail.
The original manuscript of The Mayor of Casterbridge was donated by Thomas Hardy himself to the Dorset County Museum, in Dorchester in 1911. But oddly, it is only 374 pages long!
108 pages are missing and 5 are fragmentary. The most plausible theory seems to be that Thomas Hardy excised the missing portions of the novel because they had been written by his wife, Emma. (see Simon Gatrell, although other scholars agree.) Emma had regularly produced the fair copies of parts of his previous novels, and was a talented writer herself, who was never really allowed to shine.
Unlike some other major authors who wrote Victorian serial fiction, Thomas Hardy made notes on the actual text itself, rather than having a notebook for planning. If he had about 10 lines he had changed, then he would produce a fair copy, and throw the previous one away. This means that many alterations are visible to show his thought processes (although he sometimes rubbed or scribbled them out!) but equally a lot have been lost. He did have a notebook, but used this to note items of local interest, not his own writing.
Emma and Tom had very similar handwriting, so in other cases some Hardy scholars have tried to identify parts of his stories which might also have been written by Emma. The manuscript in the museum is interesting, as it also shows quite a few cancelled plot-lines, due to his method just described.
The Norton edition has section which analyse the various editions in detail.


I see Henchard's reactions as very much a father who has come to realize that his child is growing up but also that much of his troubles have come from being impetuous at critical times. It means its still hard to come to grips with what is going on. It is not too surprising to me that he sees the conversations between Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae as possibly 'robbing' Henchard of his daughter's affections, but he now realizes that they had once had a friendly relationship that was heading toward perhaps a courtship, and if they wish, he really doesn't have a say in it. And as his natural inclination, Henchard takes a very negative view regarding his relationship with the couple if something comes of their meetings.
I have perhaps forgotten but just how old would Elizabeth-Jane be? Surely she has been on her own so she has a maturity to judge for herself on matters of any future relationship between herself and Farfrae.
I also noticed that for much of this and some earlier chapters, we don't have Elizabeth-Jane's voice to know what she is thinking. I miss that. And I was a bit surprised at her reaction about the muff and Henchard's questions.
So, I'm as troubled by this chapter as you all are. I think it is meant to move the story along but its not in a way that I find satisfying.

Which brings me to the other point I particularly liked: Claudia's, about the fur muff mystery, and how it reminded her of the sealskin cap. Intriguing!
I felt how much Henchard was trying here. I hope things work out somehow for him!
A Few Thoughts about Emma and Tom Collaboration
It is very true what Jean says about the writing collaboration between Emma and Tom. I had forgotten that their handwriting was similar. But as Jean mentioned, Hardy would write all over the manuscript and Emma would "copy it in a fair hand", that would then be sent to the publishers.
That started as early as the novel Desperate Remedies - when they were merely courting each other. And it continued most of their life. She used to call Under the Greenwood Tree "their book". Emma says she helped Hardy change the plot of that book from focusing on the tribulations of the "Mellstock Quire" (its original title) and instead onto the love story. Tom insisted that Emma just made copies, all the work and ideas were his. Who can say what is truth and what is fiction???
We do know Hardy was very ill when he wrote A Laodicean: A Story of Today in 1880 and that Emma was his chief nurse and partner in getting that novel to the publisher. So, she likely had a fair amount of influence over that novel.
Emma was a writer herself, or she tried to be. We know her writing from her surviving letters and journals. The journals contain some attempts at poetry. Her writing was okay, but not as great as Tom's.
I'm afraid I don't have any additional information on whether or not Emma wrote some of TMOC, and if that accounts for the missing 108 pages. IMHO, it's a very plausible explanation, and a real possibility.
TMOC went through so very many revisions by Hardy, it's hard to say what really happened to all the pages. It was first published, simultaneously in England (The Graphic) and America (Harper's Weekly) - January - May 1886.
But part of Chapter 44 was changed in England before being published and not changed in America. It's a bit confusing, and spoilerish if we talk about it too much right now, but suffice to say we are approaching that chapter, and I'll have more to tell you after we read it.
But it's an example of how many changes Hardy made to this story. There were even more changes as the years went on as Hardy was trying to (1) clarify the plot and (2) make Wessex more consistent. First some changes were sprinkled throughout the book in 1895 for the publication of The Wessex Novels, then again in 1912 for The Wessex Edition.
Which makes me not surprised that 108 pages are missing, given his habit of throwing away pages he didn't like, and the extreme amount of revising that went on in this novel. It also is unsurprising that we are finding so many inconsistencies, even though Hardy tried very hard to weed them out.
It is very true what Jean says about the writing collaboration between Emma and Tom. I had forgotten that their handwriting was similar. But as Jean mentioned, Hardy would write all over the manuscript and Emma would "copy it in a fair hand", that would then be sent to the publishers.
That started as early as the novel Desperate Remedies - when they were merely courting each other. And it continued most of their life. She used to call Under the Greenwood Tree "their book". Emma says she helped Hardy change the plot of that book from focusing on the tribulations of the "Mellstock Quire" (its original title) and instead onto the love story. Tom insisted that Emma just made copies, all the work and ideas were his. Who can say what is truth and what is fiction???
We do know Hardy was very ill when he wrote A Laodicean: A Story of Today in 1880 and that Emma was his chief nurse and partner in getting that novel to the publisher. So, she likely had a fair amount of influence over that novel.
Emma was a writer herself, or she tried to be. We know her writing from her surviving letters and journals. The journals contain some attempts at poetry. Her writing was okay, but not as great as Tom's.
I'm afraid I don't have any additional information on whether or not Emma wrote some of TMOC, and if that accounts for the missing 108 pages. IMHO, it's a very plausible explanation, and a real possibility.
TMOC went through so very many revisions by Hardy, it's hard to say what really happened to all the pages. It was first published, simultaneously in England (The Graphic) and America (Harper's Weekly) - January - May 1886.
But part of Chapter 44 was changed in England before being published and not changed in America. It's a bit confusing, and spoilerish if we talk about it too much right now, but suffice to say we are approaching that chapter, and I'll have more to tell you after we read it.
But it's an example of how many changes Hardy made to this story. There were even more changes as the years went on as Hardy was trying to (1) clarify the plot and (2) make Wessex more consistent. First some changes were sprinkled throughout the book in 1895 for the publication of The Wessex Novels, then again in 1912 for The Wessex Edition.
Which makes me not surprised that 108 pages are missing, given his habit of throwing away pages he didn't like, and the extreme amount of revising that went on in this novel. It also is unsurprising that we are finding so many inconsistencies, even though Hardy tried very hard to weed them out.

I didn't notice that until you pointed it out, Pamela, but it is unusual, and a little disquieting. Elizabeth-Jane is being the dutiful daughter, but you can't blame her for not going all in on her relationship with Henchard. She has been burned too many times by him and has learned to be a little wary. It feels odd not to be privy to her thoughts at this major turn in her life, and as Kathleen said, it makes it seem that something is being hidden. Clearly, she is hiding the relationship from Henchard, but what is not being revealed to the reader, as well?
My heart sank when I read the line, "thereupon promptly came to the surface that idiosyncrasy of Henchard's which had ruled his courses from the beginning and had mainly made him what he was" (232), and I thought, here we go again! Thankfully, he seems to have FINALLY learned something from his previous mistakes and is holding his jealousy and possessiveness in check--for the moment. The question is: will he be able to maintain that control when push comes to shove?

It is very true what Jean says about the writing collaboration between Emma and Tom. I had forgotten that their handwriting was similar. But as Jean..."
Bridget Thanks for the additional detail. Emma and Thomas Hardy are certainly a very interesting and intriguing couple.
Claudia wrote: "The road to Budmouth and its hills is an important and recurring location in this novel...."
ClaudiaI'm really glad you posted about how many things have happened on the road to Budmouth. I forgot all those things you listed happened on that road. I think those details help make Wessex feel authentic.
Pamela - I really liked this thought of yours: "I see Henchard's reactions as very much a father who has come to realize that his child is growing up". I had that thought too while reading this chapter. I wrote down in the margin . . . every parent has to let go eventually. This gets at how insightful Hardy is about human feelings.
There's another quote about human psychology that jumped out at me from this chapter:
There is an outer chamber of the brain in which thoughts unowned, unsolicited, and of noxious kind, are sometimes allowed to wander for a moment prior to being sent off whence they came. One of these thoughts sailed into Henchard’s ken now.
Suppose he were to communicate to Farfrae the fact that his betrothed was not the child of Michael Henchard . . . . Henchard shuddered, and exclaimed, “God forbid such a thing! Why should I still be subject to these visitations of the devil, when I try so hard to keep him away?”
It's such wonderful writing about a man struggling with the angel and the devil on his shoulders. It's just so human.
ClaudiaI'm really glad you posted about how many things have happened on the road to Budmouth. I forgot all those things you listed happened on that road. I think those details help make Wessex feel authentic.
Pamela - I really liked this thought of yours: "I see Henchard's reactions as very much a father who has come to realize that his child is growing up". I had that thought too while reading this chapter. I wrote down in the margin . . . every parent has to let go eventually. This gets at how insightful Hardy is about human feelings.
There's another quote about human psychology that jumped out at me from this chapter:
There is an outer chamber of the brain in which thoughts unowned, unsolicited, and of noxious kind, are sometimes allowed to wander for a moment prior to being sent off whence they came. One of these thoughts sailed into Henchard’s ken now.
Suppose he were to communicate to Farfrae the fact that his betrothed was not the child of Michael Henchard . . . . Henchard shuddered, and exclaimed, “God forbid such a thing! Why should I still be subject to these visitations of the devil, when I try so hard to keep him away?”
It's such wonderful writing about a man struggling with the angel and the devil on his shoulders. It's just so human.
Moving on to Chapter 43. Buckle up everyone, a lot happens so this summary is on the long side.
CHAPTER 43 - Summary
The townsfolk gossip about the engagement between Farfrae and Elizabeth-Jane. The original occupants of The King of Prussia are happy for them and their union. Some townsfolk argue that the successful Farfrae is choosing a new wife below his station, whereas others feel that the well-liked Elizabeth-Jane is lowering herself to marrying a widower with a dubious first wife.
Henchard is tormented by Elizabeth-Jane’s silence on the matter of Farfrae. He supposes that she must see him as an obstacle to her future happiness given his past with Farfrae. Henchard wonders, on the other hand, if a union with Farfrae wouldn’t necessarily prevent him from maintaining a close relationship with Elizabeth-Jane. He continues to keep a close eye on them by spying on them along the Budmouth Road. One day instead of seeing he couple's arrival there, he sees another man, Richard Newson.
Back at home, Elizabeth-Jane confesses to Henchard that she has received a letter from a strange man about meeting her on the Budmouth road and wonders whether or not she should go. She wants Henchard's advice on the matter. Henchard tells her to go. Then he tells her that he plans to leave Casterbridge, foreseeing how his life must change with Newsom back. Elizabeth-Jane, surprised and confused begins to cry.
Elizabeth-Jane thinks her father must be leaving because she wishes to marry Farfrae. He assures her that she may do so, but that he will not come to her wedding. He asks her to remember, once she knows all his sins, that he loved her and cared for her. She promises not to forget him. That very evening, Henchard secretly leaves town, with only Elizabeth-Jane accompanying him as far as the second bridge. As Henchard travels alone, he wishes he still had Elizabeth-Jane with him, believing any hardship would be nothing then. But to live alone is his punishment.
Elizabeth-Jane meets Farfrae on her walk back. She tells him that Henchard is gone. Farfrae has a friend that he wishes her to meet at home, and Elizabeth-Jane is surprised to see this man, who is Richard Newson. The reunion between long-separated daughter and father is emotional.
Newson expresses his happiness to be involved in their lives. Newson explains how Henchard had told him that Elizabeth-Jane had died when he had come through Casterbridge previously, searching for her. Newson regards the situation as a joke, but Elizabeth-Jane is angry and revolted by Henchard’s actions.
Newson good-naturedly encourages Elizabeth-Jane to put the past behind her. He offers to help pay for the wedding, which Farfrae plans to hold in their own large house.
CHAPTER 43 - Summary
The townsfolk gossip about the engagement between Farfrae and Elizabeth-Jane. The original occupants of The King of Prussia are happy for them and their union. Some townsfolk argue that the successful Farfrae is choosing a new wife below his station, whereas others feel that the well-liked Elizabeth-Jane is lowering herself to marrying a widower with a dubious first wife.
Henchard is tormented by Elizabeth-Jane’s silence on the matter of Farfrae. He supposes that she must see him as an obstacle to her future happiness given his past with Farfrae. Henchard wonders, on the other hand, if a union with Farfrae wouldn’t necessarily prevent him from maintaining a close relationship with Elizabeth-Jane. He continues to keep a close eye on them by spying on them along the Budmouth Road. One day instead of seeing he couple's arrival there, he sees another man, Richard Newson.
Back at home, Elizabeth-Jane confesses to Henchard that she has received a letter from a strange man about meeting her on the Budmouth road and wonders whether or not she should go. She wants Henchard's advice on the matter. Henchard tells her to go. Then he tells her that he plans to leave Casterbridge, foreseeing how his life must change with Newsom back. Elizabeth-Jane, surprised and confused begins to cry.
Elizabeth-Jane thinks her father must be leaving because she wishes to marry Farfrae. He assures her that she may do so, but that he will not come to her wedding. He asks her to remember, once she knows all his sins, that he loved her and cared for her. She promises not to forget him. That very evening, Henchard secretly leaves town, with only Elizabeth-Jane accompanying him as far as the second bridge. As Henchard travels alone, he wishes he still had Elizabeth-Jane with him, believing any hardship would be nothing then. But to live alone is his punishment.
Elizabeth-Jane meets Farfrae on her walk back. She tells him that Henchard is gone. Farfrae has a friend that he wishes her to meet at home, and Elizabeth-Jane is surprised to see this man, who is Richard Newson. The reunion between long-separated daughter and father is emotional.
Newson expresses his happiness to be involved in their lives. Newson explains how Henchard had told him that Elizabeth-Jane had died when he had come through Casterbridge previously, searching for her. Newson regards the situation as a joke, but Elizabeth-Jane is angry and revolted by Henchard’s actions.
Newson good-naturedly encourages Elizabeth-Jane to put the past behind her. He offers to help pay for the wedding, which Farfrae plans to hold in their own large house.
Books mentioned in this topic
Far From the Madding Crowd (other topics)Martin Chuzzlewit (other topics)
The Mayor of Casterbridge (other topics)
Les Misérables (other topics)
Les Misérables (other topics)
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Authors mentioned in this topic
Thomas Hardy (other topics)Thomas Hardy (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
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I know it makes for more drama, but Farfrae forgets what Henchard says after every attack: that while Henchard allows his anger to take abusive steps, every time he stops because he does care for Farfrae (and the same held for Lucetta). During the last incident of the fight in the barn, Henchard ties one arm and hand to his body so he doesn't have an unfair advantage, and while he still has the upper hand in the fight — and Farfrae urges him to take his life — once again Henchard turns away, "God is my witness that no man every loved another as I did thee at one time.... And now — though I came ere to kill 'ee, I cannot hurt thee! Go and give me in charge — do what you will — I care nothing for what come of me!"
I can't let Farfrae or Lucetta off the hook for every action and for the lack of honesty in their discussions with Henchard. There is much to be sorry for — like why Henchard didn't walk the letters to Lucetta, why she provoked and baited him by coming to Casterbridge at all and how she never was entirely honest with him (truly a woman scorned), the lack of an honest and frank discussion between Farfrae and Henchard to mend fences, and finally, why its taking Henchard so long to appreciate what he does have - the love and support of Elizabeth-Jane (who also is not appreciated by Farfrae either for that matter).
I have to admit, though, this is indeed a bit of a thriller: I caught myself reading not only this but the next chapter and had started Chapter 42 before I realized what I was doing!